


Sometimes They Bite Back

by Writcraft



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, Dark, F/M, Infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-21
Updated: 2013-05-21
Packaged: 2017-12-12 14:06:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/812431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writcraft/pseuds/Writcraft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucius told Harry that Hermione had been killed.  He lied.   But Lucius has been lying about many things and some are less forgiving than others when the truth is revealed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes They Bite Back

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Daisychain Drabbles on LJ as a sequel to Obliviate

 

Between Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, the girl was the weaker of the two.

Potter had fought with every last breath until he had lost his mind. Lucius supposed that Potter’s insanity had been brought about in part by his connection to the Dark Lord. When the two were close to one another, Potter would cry out and clutch his head, as if the proximity physically hurt him. Lucius wasn’t sure he understood what bound them together in such a manner, but he knew better than to question the Dark Lord. Instead, he would watch with delight as Potter twisted, turned and writhed in agony when the Dark Lord approached.

Lucius had told Potter that his Mudblood friend had screamed his name as she died. Potter had believed it of course, because he didn’t know any better. His mind was already fragile and Lucius had enjoyed using that to his advantage. It was distinctly more pleasurable to break Potter mentally than it was to break him physically. 

Now Potter was lost completely, somewhere deep in the recesses of his own mind and Lucius found he missed the fight and resistance. It bored him to watch the boy curl up in filthy sheets as if they were freshly laundered cotton and smile beatifically at Bella when she came to play. Potter didn’t recognise any of them anymore and seemed to be trapped in a macabre fantasy where he believed they actually cared for him. 

The Aurors caught more people who fought on Potter’s side of the war almost every day, but none held the same fascination for Lucius as those who had sought to better him when Dumbledore still lived. His latest fixation was the Weasley family, all of whom were still at large, with the exception of one of the sons who had been killed during the last battle. 

Lucius was rather pleased with the way things had turned out as he had been rewarded for his own role in the war with the type of Ministry position he had always longed for. He had resorted to Dark magic and cruel methods to curry favour with the Dark Lord and eventually found himself in a position of trust. His main gripe was that he had been denied the ability to use his newfound power to torment the Weasleys. 

Lucius suspected his vendetta against the Weasley family was the main reason why he continued to return to Hermione Granger’s cell, long after the other Death Eaters had forgotten she existed. Whenever he felt a flash of anger at the thought of Arthur Weasley evading capture for so long, he would remind himself of the rumours he had heard from Draco about Hermione’s relationship with one of the Weasley boys. He liked to imagine that hurting Hermione and Potter would have the same impact on the Weasley family as hurting one of their own. 

She had fought and screamed at first, just like Potter. 

Now her eyes were dull and lifeless and she didn’t make a sound when Lucius visited, unless he tried to draw screams from her. She stretched out on the cold stone, still and lifeless, and looked away from Lucius when he claimed her. When he opened the door to her cell he would often find her looking into a thick shard of broken glass as if she didn’t recognise the face in the reflection any longer. He knew she had given in to her fate and her weakness disappointed him. 

“Such a pretty little Mudblood.” The cell door opened with a _clink_ and Lucius made sure that he gave her his very best smile as it was the only thing that elicited a reaction from her anymore. She would shudder and flick her eyes away, as if the sight of his smile was worse than all of the rage and anger he could bestow on her.

Today she looked at him with an empty stare, a deep scar on her cheek and her face and hands covered with dust from the floor which had mingled with her sweat to leave dark smears on her skin. Lucius had taken great pleasure in seeing she was dressed only in house-elf rags and he had stripped the remainder of her clothes from her body long ago. The shard of mirrored glass had been placed by her side, just as it always was, and Lucius could only imagine she had been trying to find a semblance of her old self in the mirror. 

Lucius thought the sight of her wretched and pathetic. He was quite sure if it wasn’t for her connection with the Weasley family he wouldn’t continue to come back to her – at least not now she had ceased to fight with the same kind of fire as Potter had, once. 

“Does your wife know how frequently you visit?” Her voice cracked as if she hadn’t spoken for some time and Lucius startled. It had been so long since she had said a word. 

“I hardly see what business it is of yours, you filthy little whore.” With a murmur he flicked his wand to raise her from the ground. He used magic to ensure her arms were raised high above her head until she was stretched up onto the balls of her feet and then pinned her in place when he was satisfied with the position.

Narcissa didn’t know that Lucius fucked the prisoners and he didn’t intend to tell her. Lately she had looked at him with cool disdain and had suggested on more than one occasion when he had returned with blood on his hands that he should find somewhere else to sleep because he wasn’t welcome in her bed. 

Lucius imagined his thirst for torture upset Narcissa’s delicate sensibilities. She couldn’t be expected to understand the importance of doing his job in a manner which was satisfactory to the Dark Lord when she herself had never been part of the inner circle. She had refused to entertain his stories over supper long ago and he didn’t believe he could be blamed for taking his comfort elsewhere now.

“I wonder what she would say if she knew you enjoyed having sex with a Mudblood.” Hermione’s voice sounded more confident now and Lucius growled low in his throat. He mustn’t have done as good a job breaking her as he had thought. 

He would have to remedy that.

“I do not _enjoy_ having sex with you.” Lucius approached Hermione and pressed his hand in between her legs, enjoying the way she tried to flinch back from him, the first sign of struggle already making him feel excited. “You are nothing more than a dirty Mudblood cunt to me. Your friend Potter was the same. Just a toy for my amusement – and I am going to _enjoy_ playing with you today. Perhaps I will suggest to Fenrir that he pay you a visit? It seems you have been neglected down here with all of this time on your hands.” 

“I hate you. I hate you more than I have ever hated anyone in my whole life.” Hermione’s voice sounded smaller now and Lucius ran his fingers along her inner thigh as he used his other hand to unbuckle his belt.

“Now, now,” Lucius admonished with a laugh, feeling gleeful at the thought of bringing the Mudblood down a peg or two. “Why don’t you get nice and wet for me like the good little whore you are?”

“Perhaps she doesn’t want to, darling. Perhaps you _disgust_ her.” The cool voice behind Lucius made him freeze. He closed his eyes for a moment to try to compose himself, before he turned to meet the steady gaze of his wife.

“Narcissa - I can assure you this isn’t what it looks like. You must understand these Mudbloods need to be taught a lesson?”

“I am quite sure it is exactly what it looked like.” Narcissa flicked her wand and before Lucius could react his own wand flew from his robes towards Narcissa. “I have been watching you for some time.” She flicked her wand again and muttered a quick spell which released Hermione from her bindings.

“Watching me?” Lucius looked for some sort of escape, as he watched Hermione move to Narcissa’s side and take the offered wand - _his_ wand – from his wife.

“It’s a two-way mirror, you see.” Hermione let out an odd laugh and Lucius felt himself recoil at the sound of it. She picked up the long shard of glass which Lucius had seen her studying so many times before and smiled into it.

“You traitorous little bitch.” Lucius made his move to disarm Hermione but before he could do so, he found himself bound to the wall with a crack of magic. Lucius tugged his restraints, and let out a strangled sound as he kept his eyes warily on Hermione while she studied the strange mirror.

“Someone important to me had the other half – I thought it was a good idea in case we all got separated and no one thought to take it away when I was captured. I suppose you liked the idea that I would be able to see myself dressed in rags.” Hermione traced the mirror with her finger. “They are like family to me and they heard the things you said to me and saw the things you did although I begged them not too look.” She looked up at Lucius and her lips meeting in a thin line as she tilted her chin in defiance. “I didn’t know if he was real, sometimes. I hated you for that.”

“Who?” Lucius looked again at Narcissa but she wasn’t looking at him. Instead she was watching Hermione with a look of revulsion.

“Ron Weasley, of course.” Hermione pulled herself upright and then looked at herself, seeming to notice her state. She slid Lucius’ wand tentatively though her fingers and then began to cast cleaning charms and transform her rags into Muggle clothes, her moves tentative at first and then more confident as she wielded the wand and cast her spells with expert precision. When she had finished she looked back up at Lucius and although her eyes still carried that strange, haunted look, he noticed that the change had given her composure and strength.

“ _Weasley_.” Lucius spat out the name and turned to Narcissa. “You haven’t been listening to that Muggle-loving traitor?”

“Not at first,” Narcissa agreed, her tone icy. “However, he gave me the means to see everything you have done for myself.” Narcissa held up her own mirror and Lucius could see the flicker of Hermione’s face pass across it. “Surely you noticed how your son has been avoiding you? He too has seen the sort of man you have become.”

“I did it all for you – all of it,” Lucius pleaded. He tugged at his bindings again as his wife laughed. The humourless laugh sounded like breaking glass and Lucius winced.

“Spare me.” Narcissa cut Lucius off with a glare and he shrunk back against the wall.

“We waited until the time was right to make sure your wife saw the kind of things you took pleasure in.” Hermione grimaced and she pushed the mirror into her pocket as she looked around, before she turned to Narcissa and spoke urgently. “Did you bring it?”

“I did.” Narcissa nodded and Lucius watched his wife hand Hermione a potion before she turned her gaze back to him, her expression unreadable. “Polyjuice. I intend to leave the Ministry on your arm and we thought we might pay a visit to Potter before we leave.”

“They won’t let you get near to him.” Lucius sneered at Hermione and tried to struggle free. “They will never believe it is me. You won’t be able to fool Draco.”

“Draco will come with us. He has seen enough to know he has no desire to follow in his father’s footsteps.” Narcissa’s lip curled with disgust and she pointed her wand at Lucius. “Do you know how much he used to admire you? The things you have done have broken his heart – you have destroyed everything.”

“I can change, allow me to come with you.” Lucius focused on his wife but his gaze flicked to Hermione as he watched her carefully uncork the potion to sniff at it. “Narcissa, please…you surely wouldn’t side with-”

“-Enough.” Narcissa’s gaze darkened as she cut him off. Lucius trembled as he yanked futilely at his bindings while she continued. “At one stage I wanted to rip your heart from your chest while you were still alive. You should be castrated for what you have done. It is a pathetic way to behave – you really are a sorry excuse for a man.”

“You must believe I didn’t intend for any of this to happen. It has all been a misunderstanding,” Lucius implored. He felt bile rise in his throat and his eyes moved between his wife and Hermione. He saw Hermione lift his own wand and point it towards him before a strange expression flickered across her face.

Her hand trembled and Lucius sagged a little in his place. He felt a dull ache of relief because he somehow felt sure the Mudblood wouldn’t be able to torture him – or kill him. She was just like Potter in that regard. He felt certain she wouldn’t be able to cast an Unforgivable, even after everything that had happened.

“I’m worth more than this.” Hermione’s voice cracked as she dropped her hand. “You have taken so much from me, I won’t allow you to take part of my soul too.” 

“Pathetic,” Lucius muttered and settled back in his place.

“ _Crucio_!” With a sob, Hermione spun to face Lucius and cast the spell. He felt his body jerk and twist under the pain of it and heard his own cries break into the oppressive air of the room. He wished he would be heard by someone but he knew that he was one of the few who bothered coming near this particular cell. Finally the agony ended and Lucius dropped his head, heaving and gasping for breath.

“I won’t kill him.” Lucius could hear Hermione’s voice clear and firm. “I know what Dark magic does, I read all about it once. I could feel it when I cast the _Cruciatus_.”

“He is lucky you are merciful. I’m not sure I could be so kind.”

“It’s not mercy.” Lucius heard Hermione laugh without any humour. “Part of me longs to see him suffer. It’s self-preservation. There are some things I might never recover from, but I would like to try. I am quite sure I should never recover from that – from killing.”

Lucius heard further murmurs then the cell door closed with a rattle. He looked up to see he was now alone with his wife.

“Cissy?” Lucius gave his wife his fondest smile and dipped his voice low as he knew she used to like.

“You are lucky the Mudblood is merciful, Lucius.” Narcissa moved to Lucius and traced her finger along his cheek. “Whatever possessed you to behave in such a manner?”

“You don’t understand,” Lucius hissed and looked behind Narcissa to check that nobody could possibly overhear. “The Dark Lord didn’t trust me – he believed I could turn against him and I had to use every means to show him I was loyal.”

“I can understand that being the case with Potter, but with the girl?” Narcissa gestured to the now empty shackles on the floor, the presence of Hermione still heavy in the room. “Is he aware you visit her with such frequency?”

“He is supportive of us tending to any of the prisoners.” Lucius shifted his gaze and Narcissa patted his cheek before she kissed him on the lips and stepped away from him.

“I thought not. Goodbye, Lucius.” She opened the door to the cell and Lucius could see her drawing a breath.

“You can’t possibly intend to leave me here. Unbind me at once.” Lucius felt his voice rise in anger and panic. “When they find me, I will tell them everything - _everything_.”

“Ah, yes.” Narcissa turned and bestowed Lucius with another cool look, her expression blank. “I rather thought you might.”

“I have no desire to get you into trouble, Cissy, but you must understand my position…”

“I understand everything.” Narcissa raised her wand and pointed it at Lucius. “I should use something which would humiliate you the way you have humiliated me. But I don’t believe I wish to sully my hands with you for any longer than I have to. Unlike you, I do not enjoy torture – even when those on the receiving end deserve it – unlike her, I have no concerns about my soul.”

“Narcissa?” Lucius eyed the wand in his wife’s hand before he met her eyes, a cry leaving his lips as he saw her hand swipe down.

The room glowed green and the last thing Lucius saw before the spell hit him squarely in the chest were the tears on Narcissa’s cheeks.

He slowly opened his eyes again when he heard a familiar voice.

“Malfoy. We’ve been waiting for you.”

Lucius took in the stag and the wolf on either side of Sirius Black and then looked up to meet Black’s eyes.

Sirius smiled.

_Fin_


End file.
